Fairytale Twilight: Cinderella
by Aishwarya Swan-Cullen
Summary: 1st in the to-be fairytale series, this is a modern Cinderella retelling, with a Twilight Twist. Bella's life is all work no play, her step-family a huge pain. Will she be able to liberate herself - and meet her Prince Charming? AH,AU summary inside too..
1. The Miserable Life

**A/N: Hellooooooo all my readers *huggles* thank you for coming here and braving all limio read mon fic!! Yeah, so let me summarize again. This fanfic will be the first in its series of fairytale twilight[s]. I am retelling a modernized tale of Cinderella, subsituting the characters in the fairytale with Twilight characters. There may be a few Twilight happenings, and yes, Prince Charming MAY be Edward. If you have any ideas for other fairytales I can give the Twilight Twist to [besides Rapunzel, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Thumbelina, Beauty and the Beast, anything] then please review and give em to me!!**

**Be sure to make me happy by publicizing this fic - and check out my other ones!!**

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"Bella!!!!" the dully nasal voice rang through the halls.

Everywhere the ragged girl looked, she saw the shiny, gleaming timber surfaces of the kitchen, and the polished plane of the white and tiled floor, or the blinding glittering tops of the walls and utensils hanging from the steel rack. The nasal voice reverberated off the shiny surfaces, and she straightened her back a little after hunching and dragging the floor mop over the already spotless flooring. The room was light and square – the east wall had attached wooden cupboards and a white refrigerator, tall and huge. The cupboards were made of light, smooth kind of wood, with thin cylindrical tube of bronzy steel, gleaming and twinkling. A metre away from it was an island bar, white plastic and perfectly rectangular, not touching any walls but big enough to accommodate a stove on the extreme right and a stow-under dishwasher, and a flat, undisturbed stretch of white on top. From the pale ceiling hung steel racks from which hung all sorts of cutlery and utensils, all spotless and clean. The north wall had a door right in the middle, facing the south wall which was just plain glass, allowing in a huge view of the green forest, and the cheerful rays of much missed sunshine. The west wall was occupied by a large pre-heat oven and an alcohol bar – bottles of all sorts of colours and sizes were stacked on the many planes of wood, and another small island was there, much larger than the other, but decent enough.

"BELLA?!?!" screeched the nasal voice again.

The sound of heels on the floor filled the kitchen, and in teetered an unbelievably ugly woman – she was probably 5'10", her lame brown hair stiff with hairspray and streaked to death, pulled into a ponytail, her skin was creamy and a little pale, her blue eyes glittering. Her eyes were a tad puffy, her nosy stubby and wrinkled, a huge zit on her pimpled forehead. Her body had been crammed into a size zero startling red dress – her size was really a six, and one could see the flesh stressing against the red knee-length, spaghetti dress. Her thighs too were looking deformed as the figure hugging dress cut into the upper section of her thigh, making the fat peer out a little. To top it all off, she was trying to walk in amazingly tall pencil heels, ribbon stilettos. She showed her teeth as she spoke, they were encased in large braces.

"Bella, I have been calling you for the past ten minutes," her nasal voice vibrated off the surfaces. Her face contorted disgustingly as she spoke.

"What is it that you want?" asked the ragged girl in a tired voice.

"How many times," the voice of the ugly girl got louder, "has mom told you to refer to me as MADAM JESSICA!!!!" she screeched.

"Yes, Madam Jessica, what is it?" the ragged girl asked in a tired and weary voice.

"Where is my pot of crème du lait?" Jessica screeched, as if her life had depended on it.

"What crème du lait?" The ragged girl asked, standing straight, putting her weight on her left leg and holding the long mop in her hands. "We have no crème du lait at all! I don't even know what it is!"

The girl was going to continue when the noise of another set of heels filled the atmosphere, and in walked another girl. Her lips were puckered strictly, lathered with bright pink lipstick. Her nose was wrinkled in disgust and she was, if possible, uglier than the girl in red, her sister. This girl was as tall as her sister, and she was much fatter. Her face was round and her chin pointy, matched with dirty grey eyes surrounded by a year worth of eye-shadow and liner, the lashes stiff with mascara, a flat but large nose, thick eyebrows and blonde hair that was middle parted and flowed to her shoulders – also rigid with a lot of hairspray and dyes. Her voluminous flesh was squeezed into a figure hugging black dress, spaghetti and knee length a well, with a square neck. Her breasts too were straining against the firm material, casing them to bulge unattractively from the top and the material to cut slightly into them, making the top peer like a waist muffin. Her face was immensely freckled and blemished, her large braces visible everytime she opened her mouth an inch. Her legs too were large and the dress was cutting into the thighs the same way Jessica's were – and her feet were sheathed in ankle-high pencil heel stiletto boots.

The shabby girl rolled her eyes and internally felt like throwing up – all the fashion in the world had gone to waste on these two. Jessica's red number had been a Marilyn Monroe original, at one of her glittery concerts, and it looked so remarkable when it was on the dummy at the auction market, and when Jessica bought it for five million, and tried it on, I had to keep chewing gum to keep myself from gagging in nausea.

"Bella," the ugly sister of Jessica's began in an equally nasal voice. "Where did you keep my black heels?"

"They're in the laundry with your carpet slippers and Jessica's blue platforms," Bella, the ragged girl said in a drained voice.

"Address me as MADAM LAUREN!!!"

"Bella," Jessica walked over to me, almost tripping. "We are your stepsisters and you will show up respect! Call us Madam Jessica and Madam Lauren, go it?"

Bella bit her tongue to keep from retorting – if she had talked back to her ugly stepsisters, they would go and tell their uglier mother, Bella's stepmother, and then Bella wouldn't see sunlight again for about three weeks.

"And you will clean those shoes by tomorrow!!" Lauren's voice rang through the room, and she turned around and toddled away.

"My crème du lait should be ready by the time I come back, Bella!" Jessica too turned around and reeled away.

Bella sighed and as soon as Jessica left, she closed the door and sat on the clean floor, her back leaning against the wall and the mop lying horizontally beside her on the floor. With exhaustion, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

So this was life for a seventeen year old. Cooking and cleaning and washing and being a domestic help. Bella was much, much more than a domestic help – she was a child adopted by Rosalie Hale, the girls' mother and Bella's stepmother. She was practically Rosalie's own, but Rosalie despised Bella – despise being a very strong word. Rosalie never wanted to keep Bella, but her father had died, with his last wish being that Rosalie should keep Bella and treat her like a human, not a dog, and Rosalie being half in love with her dad and half in love with his money, was bound by the promise. Without anything to do with Bella, and refusing to treat her as her own daughter, Rosalie decided to make Bella work around the house, after the previous maid left because Bella's dad passed away. And so, there was not one day that Bella got to sit down and watch TV, or go on her computer for an hour, or read her compilation of books. It was a hectic life – making breakfast in the morning, making the beds, serving breakfast, vacuuming the carpet, brooming the floor, mopping the floor, cleaning the utensils, dusting the house, cleaning all the rooms and closet……never a day went by when Bella could relax, and recall being Bella Swan rather than Bella the part domestic help.

Bella had just got to do school until tenth grade, Rosalie refusing to send her to a proper public school and pay for her eleventh and twelfth grade studies. So Bella was homeschooled, one lousy tutor coming to the house she lived in and teaching her subjects, that too giving her knowledge worth ten bucks a class. And thus, Bella had never gone to a proper school, never dated anybody, never had any friends, never seen any cute boys as such and most of all – she had never had a proper education, so she wasn't too smart. Or so Rosalie thought. Bella was in fact extremely advanced at Physics and Biology – what with all those hours in the garden, weeding and gardening, or those few moments where something physical happened and she started to become fascinated in the law of gravity, the phenomenon of speed and acceleration and so on. Bella started to teach herself, and realized that this was much better than the good-for-nothing tutor that taught her stuff not worth learning. Every minute Bella got on the computer, every second she spent at the TV sneakily, every moment she would drag the trash out and skip and walk across a few streets to dump the trash at the main disposal centre [and has the opportunity to peep into the library or scavenge the day's newspaper], every moment she had to see something unrelated to cleaning, Bella would snatch the prospect and make the most of it – recording in her mind what the latest discoveries were, and proving to herself whether they were right or not. She had even learned to play Fur Elise and one of Chopin's tunes and Claire de Lune on the large golden piano downstairs when the stepsisters and Rosalie had gone out.

The ringing of the alarm rang somewhere in Bella's pockets; she heaved aside her huge custom made belt with notches to hold the different cleaning liquids, the soaps and wipers and sprays and disinfectants. She dug into her pocket and unearthed her planner – the alarm had gone off for 12:30 pm – when she had to call the chauffeur to take Rosalie and her daughters to their weekly mall spree, and resultantly open the door and prepare the fancy prop umbrellas for the trio as they would leave. And of course, who could forget the large fur coat of beige shade that Rosalie would wear while going out anywhere, whether summer or winter.

She scrambled to her feet, immediately; she picked up the mop and pulled the door open. She ran, slipping slightly on the slick floor and almost landing on her bottom – with hurry, she dunked the mop in the cleaning materials stand, where stood various brooms and the bumblebee vacuum.

Taking off the ridiculous belt, she ran to the antique phone at the coffee table by the door and quickly pressed the mobile number for the chauffeur – Emmett Cullen, and rang.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

It had rung only twice when Emmett picked up – Emmett was a nice man. He was heavily built and nice looking, but he was about Rosalie's age [possibly forty two] and he was, ironically, vying for her attention because he had a HUGE crush on her. He was STILL single, even though his pretty grey eyes and cute dimples and attractive curly hair was remotely sexy. He was, however, afraid of Rosalie's reaction if he ever told her of his crush on her, she would possibly fire him on the spot, and he very much needed a job. Rosalie probably knew already, as the girls had once heard him talking to his mum about Rosalie, and they had told Rosalie, who fortunately didn't believe it because she was heavily drunk.

"Emmett McCarty speaking, how may I help you?" the pleasant and maturely joking voice of Emmett rang through the phone.

"That was unusually quick, Em!" Bella smiled, despite herself. Emmett was really nice to her – if it weren't for the age difference, Emmett would be Bella's best friend. Emmett was always lethargic and lazy, and he picked up the phone on the tenth or the ninth ring.

"I'm on alert – I had coffee this morning." There was a smile in his voice.

"Ok, Rosalie alert – you have to be here in five minutes, she's taking the girls out for a mega shopping spree."

"Five minutes? No problem."

"Thanks Em."

"You take care Bella."

Smiling, Bella put the phone down and grinned – Emmett was probably at his house, ten miles away, but he would be here early – it was an Emmett thing – he just loved to fight in brawls [and win] and drive fast – it was in his blood, he said.

The three traipsed downstairs, Bella could hardly make out Rosalie in her large and fancy sunhat, her blonde hair tied up. She had already put on a fur coat – maroon in colour and it hid most of what she was wearing underneath – the huge and puffy coat was straight and knee length, just her well shaped legs and her bright pink high wedges were visible, otherwise, the beige and raffia hat just hid most of her face.

Without looking at Bella, Rosalie just pranced past in her lithe catwalk step, and she walked out of her door, followed by her ugly daughters tottering after her, their Gucci handbags slung across their shoulders.

Bella held the door open and they walked past, in a line, their hands outstretched and she handed them their fancy prop umbrellas.

Within five minutes, and a small tantrum when Lauren happened to see a small mustard stain on her umbrella, they were gone, and Bella heaved a sigh of relief.

The day's necessary work was done, so she went to sit at the large couch.

The way she plopped down was as if she was sitting down after years – the relief that her face showed was inevitable. Her gorgeous chocolate eyes widened and loosened in liberation, her pink lips turned up and her thin brows loosened from their concentrated pucker. Her pale skin wasn't very attractive – her main flaw, the flaw which Rosalie and her daughters counted on to stop Bella looking attractive to most men. There was hardly any sign of a blemish on Bella – her face looked better than any, framed by her thick mahogany tresses that flowed to her mid-back. She looked skinny in the patchy jeans and the yellow shirt under the dirt splattered, dusty and grimy off-white lacy apron she wore, but sculpted, as the apron's belt slung around her waist attractively, pushing into her stomach and emphasizing her curves. There was a slight patch of dirt on her cheek, and her hair was a little frizzy, but she had undone herself completely – so she looked like a pretty teenage girl who had engaged herself in some childish fun, and had now come home to rest.

She looked up at the ceiling and revelled in her brief moments of bliss. Rosalie and the girls were out, and she was home alone, finally, and she was having a personal moment – cheering on the inside.

Smiling, she looked at the envelopes on the desk – the mail from the morning, and shuffled them one by one, paying attention to each name the envelope was addressed to.

Rosalie Hale.

Jessica Hale.

Lauren Hale.

Rosalie Hale.

Lauren Hale.

Jessica Hale.

Bella sighed. No one but herself knew the real names of ANY of these girls, and she knew the despicable reasons why her half-family chose to cover their real names. Rosalie Hale's full name was in fact Renee Rosalie Hale, Jessica's was Jessica-Pauline Stanley Hale and Lauren's was Mallory Lauren Hale.

With all these posh names, Bella was disappointed at the foolishness of her of her step mother's decision to twist her daughters' names. If Bella were lucky enough to half long and sophisticated names such as those, she would gladly have it. She was just stuck with Isabella Swan. No middle name, no fancy first name, no fancy last name even. Her father, Charlie, had given himself a lot of middle names and supplementary first names to fulfil his second wife's need for better names. Bella missed her father a lot – she was just two when he died, and the separation wasn't very painful because she was very young when he did.

Dumping the envelopes elsewhere, Bella walked to the grand flight of stairs and ascended them, hunching ever so slightly, to go and watch some TV or go on her laptop.

And this was one of those happy days for her – when the girls had gone out with their mother. She was suffering the same ragged situation as Cinderella's, before her life had turned into happy living.

And there was no doubt that karma would soon find Bella. Karma would track and flag her down, and there was nothing Rosalie could do to stop a force she couldn't see from changing Bella's life. And when Karma would find her, her fairytale ending would be at her doorstep.

Because every fairytale begins with misery.

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**A/N: Well, hope you enjoyed it!! Pweeeeez go to that shiny review button *points to review button* *nods cheesily* and pweeeez review!! BECAUSE ZEY MAKE ME 'APPYYYYYYYYY!!!**

**Disclaimer for the entire thing: Twilight nor Cinderella is mine. Just the twist in the story is. Love ya'll!!**

**DEDICATION: Shyesteh [if you read this], Dani [As If I Never Exsisted], Rose [ xX - Midnight Rose - Xx], Lyn [xX - Jadalyn - Xx] and Freya [Gallifreyan Vampire] my cookies budz!!!**

**Luv,**

**Ash**


	2. Royal Bounty

**A/N: Bonjour, my school has started = less time for fanfic. But oh well - here we go...the next chpter!! So thanks Rose, happy returning!!! wooot!! And I love youa ll the reviewers who REVIEWED!!!! YOU GUYS WILL SO GET A SPECIAL MENTION....!!!!! So happy reading - and for the 26th Jan, happy [nearly] Republic Day [India] and Australia Day [Australia]**

**Be sure to make me happy by publicizing this fic - and check out my other ones!!**

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"Oh my god! Oh my god! HE'S ON TV, MOM, JESS!"

Bella, who had been singing a tune inside her head and revelling in the serene silence, jerked to mental consciousness and hurried forward to see what happened; her haste was such that she slipped on the recently wet stairs which she had been mopping and landed with a thud on the fifth step from the bottom – and she, losing momentum, rolled over and landed with another thud on the step below. She gasped audibly, and her legs buckled under her in an uncomfortable position; she fell forward and landed on her chest at the bottom of the stairs, her legs curved over her back.

She moaned at the bruising she had gotten from slipping down the steps – her stomach was hurt, her legs were feeling a tad numb and bruised, her shins aching, and her butt was throbbing. A small tear of hurt welled on her left eye; she brushed it away without much ado and got her footing again, standing up and brushing herself.

Down the stairs, the ever so ugly Lauren walked hastily; her skirt was a super-micro-mini, her voluminous thighs juddering flabbily. Her tee was figure hugging, and Bella wanted to close her eyes and never look again once she saw the shudder-inducing sight of her horrible body in the slinky top. She was murdering fashion once more. Lauren passed Bella a scorching glance, and then juddered off to her sister, her mini limiting the length of her stride.

Almost at once, a distraught Rosalie came snailing down the stairs.

She moved with grace and fluidity, no doubt about that. Her stride was like gliding down the aisle, a swift but watery movement. Her long black robe was a halter – she wore it as a halter, and then the dress shrugged her figure till the waist – it then flared out like a huge gown, not bridal or poufy, but flowy and rippling. She had a silvery nightgown-like topcoat on, and her hair was pulled back into a slick high ponytail – her hair was just like Jessica Alba's in Fantastic 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer. Her face, however, went along with her hair – ghastly beautiful, but strict and stern. Her mouth was thin and pink, glistening and thinning by the moment as she saw Bella. Her eyes were a brilliant bluish grey, her lashes large and extensively spread to frame her brilliant eyes properly. Her nose was flawless – covered by the softest, fairest and most undisturbed stretch of skin that covered her face too – her cheeks were just so soft and looked carved. Rosalie Hale's body was perfectly sculpted – and the whole image was a work of the many ageing creams and face-washes and fairness creams that littered her room – and the starvation diet she was on.

As she glided down the stairs, she threw a look of disdain towards Bella, her mouth thinning and her eyes flashing dangerously; Bella got up hastily and continued to scrub the floor, watching Rosalie from the corner of her eyes. Rosalie hardly ever spoke, but when she did, it was in varying tones – one could see how angry she was. Bella continued to watch Rosalie almost pass her, then pause, and then take a step down. She deliberately spat on the floor right behind Bella and smirked when she saw her whip around and look at the blob of spit disgustingly, and then throw Rosalie the most venomous look she could muster. It was amazing how the look couldn't burn.

Rosalie ignored her, and continued to walk towards her daughters' direction. Her long, blonde hair fluttered behind her, and the hoops dangling from her ears were flouncing in the air.

Bella heard Rosalie converse with her daughters' in the TV room – she sounded excited. Jessica and Lauren were plain screaming and squealing like mice in their nasal voices.

Cautiously, Bella tiptoed over to the room from where she could hear the noise, to see what the entire hubbub was about. She made no sound as she sneakily slithered across the mantelpiece, her mop ready in case they caught her, and she slowly, warily, peered over the door frame.

The room was large, and it was etched in her memory, what with all the cleaning it underwent. The room was themed a classic white and gold, except for the ornate blue chandelier. The three women were sitting on the comfortable red L-shaped couch, the blonde hair of Rosalie in the middle, and the two quivering girls' on either side of her.

Their eyes were fixed on the TV.

The flashing colours and dramatic shapes styled themselves into scenes and snippets. A beautiful reporter appeared on the TV. Her brilliant red hair was quivering despite the no-breeze condition, and her face was pale but well sculpted. She didn't look exactly pretty, but there was something innocent about her, and something professional, that just drew people to the screen. Bella could see how much the lady had in common with Rachelle Lefevre – Bella was a huge fan.

Bella strained to see and listen now, as Jessica altered the volume, and the trio leaned in a little to the ginormous plasma screen.

"Hello, and Good Evening to all the residents of Forks, the most popular and rich town in North USA and to everyone watching this at home elsewhere. My name is Victoria and I am standing here at the Cullen Palace."

Obviously, Bella thought. The news reporter was standing on a hill, with the Cullen manor in the background - while it was a majestic and mystical manor, this Hale house was a grand villa – why wouldn't it be, considering that Rosalie was one of the world's best actresses.

"Of course," Victoria continued, "there have been rumours around here that the youngest of the Cullen children, Edward Cullen, is now reaching his twenty – first birthday, and he is still a bachelor. His birthday, which is a two weeks away, on the thirteenth of May, will be celebrated with a bang – the Cullen family has decided to find Edward Cullen a woman he can date, and then marry. The common question that has gone around is what they will be doing to organize such a social event – where the looks won't get to Edward Cullen first. The Cullen family strictly wants the youngest Cullen to search for the heart, and not the beauty. And thus, this will be determined by a masked ball which will take place a day before his birthday, at the Cullen Manor, in the ballroom which is big enough to accommodate however many women want to come. And of course, since it will be a large family, the Cullens are encouraging many young men to come as well – who knows, maybe in such a large gathering, the marriage of many more couples will be fixed."

Bella breath had already gone away.

Edward Cullen.

Single.

The news bowled her over like a game of ten-pin bowling. She was emotionless for the moment – her breath nonexistent.

The truth was that Bella had ALWAYS managed to see every episode or show or program with Edward in it, on TV. She was crazy about him – she was completely obsessed with him. His music, his movies, and his dance routines. She loved every bit of him. She had browsed through every single magazine she could find to cut out ANY articles on him and make a reminder to hide them safely in her scrapbook or her many folders. But this wasn't just obsession – it was more than that. When Bella had managed to figured a lot out about him, especially his personality, she had moved on to that "crush" stage.

Bella turned away from the screen and pressed her back against the wall, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She had to go to that ball.

But could she? The manacles that bound her to the horrid house were invisible, but existent. She had to be here. She couldn't go. She wouldn't be allowed to.

But tired of being in the dark all the time, it was time for Bella to choose, and step forward to show herself who she was.

And at once, the name "Cullen" peered through the door again, and Bella instantly snapped back to her previous sneaky position.

The reporter was talking to a short girl whose hair was a spiky black halo around her head. She looked around nineteen, and her body was beautifully sculpted – dressed in the most diva-est, most fashionable French clothes ever to be designed. Her skin was a pale white, and her eyes were a glowing hazel, framed by promiscuous lashes that curled up mysteriously. Her nose was flat and button-y, but really cute. Her lips were full and plump, glittering pink, and they were pulled into an angelic, sincere smile that reached her bright eyes. Her cheeks were pretty and perfect – her sin flawless and smooth.

Bella could recognize the girl – she was the same age as her. The beautiful girl was Alice Cullen, and she was a girl whose decisions were well taken – every decision she made always happened to lead her in the right direction. She was Edward Cullen's youngest sister.

Of course, she had met Edward's parents, funnily enough. They had once come to see Rosalie and congratulate her on her new single hit song, Remind Me of How I Look Beautiful. They too were beautiful and pale, and they had acknowledged Bella, but with pity. She had been commanded cruelly by Rosalie to serve them food and the usual tempting services.

Bella could hear the girls titter edgily and shake in excitement, and she heard someone get up.

What could she do – she panicked.

And as soon as she panicked, she accidentally nudged the China vase on the mantelpiece, which teetered on the edge, swivelled around and then in slow motion, it crashed to the floor, flying off in smithereens – the blue and white pieces cleaved into many fragments and shooting off, with the most crashing, scaring sound ever.

And suddenly, Rosalie was standing in front of Bella, her face red, and contorted in anger.

"What are you doing here?" she said in a sugary, sweetened voice, which was quivering in antagonism.

Bella started to stutter about cleaning. And the words weren't coming out well. But Bella was hopeless at lying – and she could never, ever lie to Rosalie, what with her intense and frightening presence and the severity as her murderous eyes shot daggers into Bella's, and the brutality that shone out of her blonde hair stretched back, high in a braid. The words just came out all muddled up, and the words "Cullen" and "ball" and "going" were prominent, and Rosalie's eyes flashed evilly with understanding.

"So you want to go to the ball do you?"

Bella couldn't help it – her face crumpled and tears leaked out of her eyes. She knew this was the end of it all. She would never be allowed to go. But she nodded nevertheless.

"So you think he will choose you, then?"

Bella sniffed.

"Huh!" Rosalie did the most unexpected thing by bursting into laughter, hilarity mounting higher in every note she laughed out, guffawing now.

Lauren and Jessica, who were watching Bella jokingly also burst into laughter, guffawing in a tone that embarrassed Bella.

"He can choose me," whispered Bella. "I'm his biggest fan. I have what it takes."

Lauren and Jessica were laughing maniacally.

"You??? Hello," Lauren giggled in a sing-song voice. "We are his biggest fans, and we are the ones who deserve to be there…!"

"And not some ugly broken down slave girl," added Jessica, and they broke up into hilarious cackles of laughter, doubling over with Rosalie, their eyes streaming now, and their bodies quivering in joviality.

"What?" sniffed Bella. "You heard what they said. He'll look for the heart, not the looks."

Rosalie immediately stopped laughing, but her lips were pulled up in a more amused smirk.

"Pur-lease, little Miss Nobody," she snorted. "Your heart is even uglier than you yourself."

Bella instantaneously went red, with anger and embarrassment. She was quivering now, staring sharply at Rosalie.

"You would know," Bella murmured. "Your heart is so dirty, neither your looks nor your money can compensate for it."

And that was a huge mistake.

The smile vanished from Rosalie's face as if she had been struck dead. A steaming, angry glare replaced it instead, her perfect face shaped into the ugliest mask of resentment possible – her severe hairstyle and her popping eyes scared Bella enough, who was now cowering slightly.

And then with every ounce of strength she could possibly muster, Rosalie reached out, swung her hand back, and whipped her hand on Bella's white cheek. The force was so humongous – the sound of flesh against flesh echoed around the house.

But that wasn't all – the vigour of the slap had sent Bella staggering; she tripped over her foot, her cheek smarting, and met the corner of the mantelpiece. Her stomach made a slight "dhouff" sound as it got bruised by the corner, and Bella desperately tried to hold on to something to prevent herself from tripping to the floor. She grabbed hold of the knob on the desk, and it held her for the moment, but the knob pulled out the shiny mirror that hung large and reflective on top, and the glass crashed on top of Bella's head, smashing into smithereens on her head, and cleaved into many glistening pieces that were bloodstained, and scattered across the spotless polished floor.

Rosalie started murmuring profanities at her is a dead murderous voice, and Bella, who was in a painful limbo between pain and unconsciousness, strained to listen to her.

Great – she had to clean the mess up. Probably wherever she would go now, her place would be marked by a ginormous blood patch.

Bella however had enough. She stood up as soon as he had done holding in the pain where she could feel the glass had cut into her head and arms, she hauled herself upright, and holding the tight tears in, she ran as fast as possible to her room, the tears now spilling from her eyes as if a water balloon had just been slashed in half.

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She moaned as the last piece of glass, which was large and jagged, had just been pulled out of the left top of her head by her gloved hand. She shivered as she saw how deep the cut was, and placed the shard of glass in the tray which was already full of them. The glass glimmered evilly, as if laughing at its intake of blood from her head, and she eyes it disgustingly as it clinked on top of the other shards.

She separated her hair in a partition where the cut was – it already stung a lot. She stained a small Band-Aid cotton wrap with some healing herbal cream, and proceeded to wrap it around the wound, also clinging on the other wrapped up white cloths covering her head for support.

She stepped bad and winced – her head looked huge – the band-aid turban was white, and her mahogany hair flew out from the back. There were red gashes all across her face, and a huge wrapped piece of the band-aid cloth around her biceps where some glass had sunk in. Her eyes were contorted in pain.

Angered, she stormed out of the bathroom and flung herself on the bed, depressed and crying at how bad hr life was right now, and hen she opened her teary, bloodshot eyes to look at her pink roof.

And there she saw a year-old HUGE poster of Edward Cullen with his latest album, looking as handsome as ever. His eyes twinkled down to her, his trademark crooked smile dazzling her right away, and his immobile bronze hair shining.

"He has no idea," moaned Bella, her face contorted in many branches of emotional and physical pain. She would never get a chance to talk to him – to tell him about his work, and to get a chance at the big screen herself. Who would want to date, or even marry a ragged servant maid girl, especially one who was an adopted used-up scruffy step daughter of the Rosalie Hale?

She got back on her feet and went to the free wall where her biggest poster of him hung; she caressed his papered face with her fingers, tears leaking again from her eyes.

"You have no idea how much I like you," she whispered, anguished.

And with a slow movement, she placed her smacked cheek against his poster-face, and she sunk to the floor, dissolving into saddened tears.

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**A/N: Well, hope you enjoyed it!! Pweeeeez go to that shiny review button *points to review button* *nods cheesily* and pweeeez review!! BECAUSE ZEY MAKE ME 'APPYYYYYYYYY!!!**

**Disclaimer for the entire thing: Twilight nor Cinderella is mine. Just the twist in the story is. Love ya'll!!**

**DEDICATION: Shyesteh [if you read this], Dani [As If I Never Exsisted], Rose [ xX - Midnight Rose - Xx], Lyn [xX - Jadalyn - Xx] and Freya [Gallifreyan Vampire] my cookies budz!!!**

**Thanks reviewers - yall ROCKKKK!!**

**Luv,**

**Ash**


	3. Chance to Step Up

**A/N: My avid readers, welcome, and thank you. I renovated my profile and stuff, so yeah. And also to all those awesome people who are favourite-ing and story alert-ing FTCinderella, I love you guys soooo much :D and It's me more awesome for ya'll to review!! Even if youre writing "Good." Thats all I'm asking for!!**

**Happy Valentine's Day, and for all those lovely people out there who are as dateless and loveless as me but have had a lot of crushes, PM me or Review if you want, just to let me know!! THE BACHELOR/BACHELORESS' CLUB!!**

**Also, come to my forum :D Its called Cookied Plus Soda Equals To Hyper Awesomeness.**

**Finally, I have to regretfully announce that deary Dani [Even If I Fall] may cease being an active participant in forums or discussions as such, for all her avid fans. She's gonna just write the story "Speechless", period. I love ya Dani, and I'll miss you loads :( So anywhooooooo happy reading!! **

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Jealousy was a feeling not like any other – it was this amalgamation of hatred and an internal fire that shook the heart. It was the boiling of blood inside the body, and the thoughts of odium were like daggers – if they were real, they could have killed.

And Bella's face was absolutely bright red and she was shaking as she swept all the newspaper trimmings from the boxes. The girls and Rosalie had come back from Madame Reynaud Dresses with the two most amazing gowns ever to be created. And what a waste – they were bought for the ugliest women in town….Lauren and Jessica. The dresses had been brought over in large boxes with numerous newspaper trimmings to support the dress. And now, the trial had begun, and it wasn't very pleasant.

Jessica was twirling around subconsciously as Rosalie surveyed the masterpiece. The dress was beautiful – a bright red, strapless, and it was tight until underneath the bust, and then it splayed out in many folds and layers of red frill. It was a nice sight, the dress alone. But the woman in it was ghastly. Her bust just didn't fit into the dress, so Jessica had a custom-made corset with a bustier to not make her breasts look all suggestive and large and podgy. The layers of tummy flab she had now from going on multiple crash diets strained against the flawless material, and the thinnest section of the dress, around under the bust, already had the tiniest of ripped seams; the size was simply not meant to make Jessica look good. And after all, the mousy lanky brown mane of Jessica's was going nowhere with the dress, so all in all, the sight was not pretty one single bit.

Lauren was facing one of the other mirrors in the room, and surveying herself while Rosalie looked on her as well. Her dress was magnificent too – simply stunning. The dress was a simple, but glazed at silky colour of a pearly gray-white. The material started at the top of the bust and hugged the figure until just below the bust. Over there, there was a small wrap of off-white tied into a bow, tilted to the left. Then, the material hugged the figure gently down to Just above the waist, ending in a small hem, and then in soared out like a puffy wedding dress to encircle the wearer's figure. The bust section, where the dress began, was a unique one indeed – It shaped around the breasts in a womanly attractive way – rising up as the bust did and then dipped down to the centre of where the breasts met. From the pits of the wearer, where the side-seam was, out puffed two puffy sleeves; they were just off shoulder, with the ending just enough elastic to help hold the dress up. The sleeves were large and puffy, and grand indeed.

Well, at least this was how the dress looked on the model wearing it on the cover of the brochure.

Bella dropped the brochure to look at Lauren and had to shake herself awake from the monstrosity after surveying the huge difference between the dress in the brochure and the dress now.

Lauren had the same silicified-bust problem a Jessica, those two desperate girls. They both had a silicon thing done to their breasts, for attraction, and it just made them uglier. The bustier corset Lauren was wearing underneath the front of the dress made it look all ridged and stiff; her bust was leaking slightly from the top. Despite the corset, the figure hugging quality of the dress did not assist in any way whatsoever. Her stomach flab was pressing against the material and looked like huge waves, podgily stressing against the silk. Her waist was far too wide, and a split seam was already in place. Usually, the clothes the two would wear were in such designs, they were meant to compliment their horrible, horrible figures. These dresses were the exact opposite of complimentary. Lauren's large, tuck-shop-lady arms were large and sagging and flabby, the puff sleeves digging into them uninvitingly.

However ugly the girls were, Bella couldn't help the stabs of jealousy show on her face; once or twice, she caught a smirk on the girls' or Rosalie's face. They would be the ones going to Edward's ball, and Bella would be the one serving detention at her own house for breaking that mirror and what not.

Bella grudgingly swept the floor with her broom, trying to collect the endless newspaper strip that kept falling out of the dresses as the girls' turned. She kept on picking them up, then putting them in the bin, then picking them up, and then putting them in the bin….

Sick and tired, but finally relieved when the trials were over and the girls' and Rosalie had retreated to other parts of the house, Bella collected all the large plastic bags of newspaper trimmings she had and stuffed them into the proper black garbage bag, with the recycle sign on it, and she knotted the top tightly. Bella was a recyclist at heart – she cared about the environment even more than herself. Bella chugged down a moderately cool glass of water and sighed, and then headed out of the door. There, she collected the other garbage black bag, the normal rubbish, and together with the two bags, she loaded them on the trash cart (more like a shopping trolley) and wheeled it out of the gates and the posh lining of hedges.

She wheeled the package out, and then turned left on the beautiful Forks Street, and then walked on. The houses now were more normal – the Hale house stood at the end of the street in a unique way, far bigger and prettier than the rest. But somehow, Bella appreciated the simple houses she saw now, and the nicely trimmed minor hedges. Bella appreciated these simple lives.

She wheeled the trolley to the nearest garbage point, where another person was already unloading stuff.

Bella smiled and went to the garbage unit and waited for the person already there to finish unloading. She observed the girl as tall as her, but with spiky black hair, and simple but very posh-touched clothes. The girl had her back to Bella.

Bella continued the observation; the girl had gloves on, and was unloading the plastic bottles and dumping them in the normal-garbage bin. Not a single thing into the Recycle bin. Plastic bottles, sheets of paper, cardboard boxes – all into the waste bin. Bella's blood began to boil.

"Excuse me!" Bella started rudely.

The girl turned around, surprised, and faced Bella. She was pretty; her pale white skin and her dark sunglasses contrasted, and her figure was a beautifully slender one.

"What?" she said, her eyebrows creasing.

"You're putting all those plastic bottles and paper and boxes into the waste bin. Sensible people should put it in the Recycling bin." Bella stubbornly picked up some of the empty milk bottles and placed them into the large recycling bin.

"Like anyone cares," the girl said, proceeding to take out the large box from her bag.

Bella stubbornly pulled this box away from her and put it in the Recycling bin, before the girl had a chance to discard it in the wrong means.

"I care," Bella alleged.

"Well then, you're the only one." The girl was mocking now, and placed her papers into the Recycling bin with slow and mocking movements.

"Excuse me, but tomorrow when you'll have to fight a war with sticks and stones and die in guilt because you never were environment friendly, then you'd realize what I mean, ok? So be good to this, this stuff can be used again for someone else's benefit. You may be living the good life with steak and potatoes to hop everyday, but there are people in Kenya and all without a morsel of fruit even, because their trees were cut down to make stupid boxes for you." Bella growled slightly.

"You're good," the girl smiled. "I guess you're right."

"I know I am." Bella smiled. "Why don't you recycle?"

"Well, I've never thought about it as such." She smirked at herself. "Except for my brother – he is the world's biggest environmentalist I have ever seen."

"Well…..you guys seem rich. So for a rich person, he is uncannily kind."

"I've seen that kind of prejudice before," the girl smirked. "But I believe that too. Its just that though we're like really, really rich, our family is like really, really nice."

"So does he make you guys wear LaVianda shoes?" I glance at the girl's feet, encased in chinchilla-fur boots.

She shuffled her feet, embarrassedly. "Not at all. He burnt those beauties!" She pouted.

"Well, LaVianda makes only animal-skinned boots, and that's so not nice. I'm glad your brother burnt those shoes – LaVianda's crocodile heels, leather pumps and fur boots are responsible for the near extinction to most of our animals, you know."

The girl blinked.

"I am taking you to meet my brother one day!"

Bella shrugged. No big deal as such.

"Well, aren't you like a little too cool to be unloading garbage around here?" Bella stiffened at her remark.

"I have a different life than many," Bella mumbled.

"Really," the girl' voice went tinier. "How come?"

"Well, you know Rosalie Hale, right?"

"The cracked up singer who lives down-street? What about her?" the girl said with eyes as wide as saucers, but with distaste colouring her words.

"That's the one. Well, she adopted me because of my family reasons…and now I'm basically her slave girl. So here I am, with these trash bags, and when I get bag, I have to start the dusting."

"You poor soul!" the girl whimpered sympathetically.

"I'm a poor soul, alright – you would be too if you saw her ugly girls in the best of dresses." Bella shook her head. "Crime of fashion, I tell you."

"Jessica and Lauren?" he girl appeared to shudder. "I think they'll make all fashion-lovers want to lie down and die."

"They're the ones. And plus, they bought these gorgeous dresses they will wear to the Cullen Ball-"

The girl performed a sharp intake of breath, dramatic, and her mouth formed an "O" like The Scream. Her dainty hand flew up in shock to cover the oval.

"They are not…"

Bella was surprised by the reaction, but knew the horror the girl felt. "Yes they are."

"That would be terrible..!!"

"Yes it would be." Bella sighed. "It's been my dream to meet Edward, even though we live in the same town. People from all over will come to this thing, and he's just one of my idols – his work his so serious and heartfelt, and his personality is just stunning, apparently."

"Edward is a pretty special person," the girl said, her mouth tilting to a cryptic smile Bella couldn't understand.

"But I mean, it's only a dream, like I said. The ugly sisters will be there, and Rosalie has forbidden me from going to the ball to even see Edward. All because she wants one of her daughters to marry him, as we all know that he's looking for a girl."

The girl smiled wider, and then she removed her sunglasses, to reveal oddly familiar green eyes. Bella's heart stopped for a moment, and then restarted.

"A-Alice?" she stammered?

Alice spread her arms wide. "That's me!"

"Wow, I can't believe I just talked to the most "Hyper Over Enthusiastic" girl in town. You know, they exaggerate on TV!" Bella truly meant every word.

"Well, they do," Alice giggled, pleased with Bella's honesty.

"So Edward is eco-friendly?" Bella hid the infatuation in her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was to pester Alice to how her Edward. Bella would never use anybody.

"Yes he is," Alice giggled. "I bet you're one of those girls with a crush on him."

"I won't lie," Bella admitted. "But I tend to look past the gorgeous bronze hair and the beauty."

"Wow," Alice explained. "You're like me – you know, you should come to the ball."

"Me?" Bella asked. "I have these scars because I crashed into the mirror, because she slapped me, because I decided to go to the ball."

"Uh, she's a bitch. We all know."

"Especially me – I know more than necessary."

Alice patted Bella's back and smiled. "Well, it'd just be nice for you to be at the ball. Edward could use a good, truly eco-friendly friend. You like Ed?"

"Well, who doesn't? And yes. I'm pretty gripped. No a more amazing guy to see."

"I get drowned by these."

"Well, you don't have to listen to my drones – only in my land can I actually have a chance with Edward. Speaking of droning, what are you doing here?"

Alice giggled. "I needed air, what with my brother's constant ball preparations."

"Ah – he's a great dancer. You dance?"

"A lot – I love dancing! Our family is very dance orientated." Alice perked up at once. "Do you dance?"

"Dancing?" Bella exclaimed. "I love it!! It's my passion!!"

"Really? Oh my god – that is so cool!! Oh my god," Alice exclaimed, and began perking up. "Drop the bags and gloves. Lets go to my family's dance studio now to rehearse."

"I'd love to, but that's a death sentence."

"Why?"

"Um, I'm the queen of the clumsy, and Rosalie will in no way allow me to go."

"Watch me," Alice challenged, whipping out her glitzy red and silver cell. At once, her fingers flew across the screen and dialled a number. She daintily put the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, Mrs Hale?"

Yes. Who is this?

"Hello, I'm Constable Giorgio. Um a certain young woman with…er brown hair and ragged clothes has broken the Recycle law."

Isabelle?

"Yeeeee-ah."

Well, do whatever you want with her. Put her in jail. Just tell her that when she gets back, if ever, she has to clean and buff the dresses and polish the floor.

"Ok. Thanks for the time."

Alice shut the phone, grabbed Bella's hands and hurried to the end of the street.

"Alice, you are a genius!!" Bella exclaimed, stumbling slightly.

"I know!" Alice ran, delighted.

The duo ran to a slick yellow Porsche, low and shiny, and it stood out on the rich streets of Forks. The number plate was truly remarkable – ALICE.C – and the black and yellow of the outstanding car met the eye like explosives.

"Get in!"

Within the next few minutes, the couple was zooming down the rolling roads, and the afternoon was settling over the hedges and cowering over the lanes. The Porsche pierced the dull, lazy day and it headed to the large mall-like building, the centre of all Forks shopping. The car swivelled sharply around it, and headed to a smaller collection of markets, and stopped right in front of the sign reading "Dance Studio".

Bella exited excitedly, with Alice all perky and hyped up beside her. She felt a strange shot of electric excitement paralyze her vision, and then, the next she knew – Alice was dragging her inside.

The girls reached a studio-room that was relatively large, everything being wood, and only one wall made of transparent plastic material that gave view to the next room. The floor was tiled with long plies of chestnut wood, and the walls were wood too, but with a silver rail all around it for support. According to Alice, this was a private room – the Cullens had access to it.

Bella turned around to face the transparent wall and gasped in surprise at the occupancy of the next room.

"Yeah, my brother holds classes for the rich and bold and all, so today's class…"

Bella couldn't speak. In front of her, the idol of her dreams – whose back was facing them – was dressed in a beige half-sleeve T-shirt which flaunted his perfectly "baraque-**ê**tre bien foutu" muscles. He was also wearing black, denim skinny jeans that cuddled his legs tightly and shaped them in a really suggestively hot way. His feet were bouncing in converse, and he was talking to the twenty or so collection of guys and girls lined up in front of him. His bronze hair was standing up and glimmering in the buttery-beige sunshine filtered by the window; rays that bounced of the wooden planks went back to illuminate his godly figure too. His T-shirt was hugging him now – though I flew a little loosely down the crevice in his back, it met back with his waist and proceeded to shape his bum from the back. His hands were moving to gesture, and his feet were shuffling and bouncing, his stature calm and loose…and attractive.

"That's Edward. Done staring, Izzy?"

"Izzy?" Bella whirled around gracefully. "Oh – Rosalie called me Isabelle. It's actually Isabella, so I kind of prefer Bella…."

"Bella! Much better," Alice giggled. "Ok, so you need to go change, first things first."

Bella frowned and looked down at her unruly attire; she could see that Alice was right. Her scruffy sneakers were old and weathering and her dark blue trackies were patched and frayed and dirty. Her brown jacket was rough and dirty too, and Bella's hair was all messy and despicable. Alice couldn't say much, so putting on a triumphant smile, she wheeled Bella to the changing rooms, saying how Alice's locker was full of nice dancing clothes she never wore twice….

And so, a few minutes later, with the aid of the funky music next door, Bella and Alice started stretching – Bella showing off her new outfit. It was a red and black cotton spaghetti top that revealed her shapely shoulder and hollow base of her neck. It then flowed down, tightly fitting with her figure to show off her hidden but promiscuous curves, and let with the black dancing tights – Lycra black pants reaching to just a little down her knees, with white tubing down the sides. She was also skipping around in the new white sneakers, and her hair was side-parted and down. Bella looked happy to be with Alice. Happier than she had ever before been.

Edward, on the other side of the barrier, dimmed the volume of he pop music a little to make himself heard. Bella protectively hunched a little, she always did, and balled her fists and put them underneath her chin; legs taut, she waited for him to speak….

"…..ok guys; the most important thing about dancing is to move with your heart. Fell that urge to flow inside your heart – feel that thirst for an outlet to let it all out…." He displayed what he meant by doing a small Michael-Jackson twist with his feet; the girls tittered.

Bella loved to hear his voice; Alice just seemed bored and kept on murmuring "just play the music..."

Edward bent down once more, and before touching the stereo, he addressed the class.

"Now, I'm gonna put on some music, and we're going to learn some steps, ok?"

He pressed the silver play button, and turned around.

As if a scene shot from the sides, the transparent wall was like a barrier; Edward could not see Bella and Alice from where he was standing – he could just see reflections of the room he was in, and of himself and the mismatched, tittering class. On Bella's side, she and Alice could see them everything on the other side of the transparent barrier – they could see all the laughing girls and flirting boys, and Edward in his sexy outfit across the room. Edward and Bella seemed symmetrical; they stood the same distance apart from the barrier, and both of them shuffled their feet the same way, same direction. They both shook their wrists and stood tense, prepared….

And then, for a moment, Edward looked up, and stared right into Bella's eyes.

Bella's heart just stuttered, as her eyes made contact with his startling green ones. She blinked casually, though the two of them held that one gaze for a full two minutes…..

And then he looked away, and prepared to dance.

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**For everyone who is confused about this whole dancing thing, I have to admit my bibliography: the studio scene in Another Cinderella Story. I love that movie. I will soon post a link to the video of the dance moves and scenes and this whole "symmetry" thing in my next chapter, because the dancing will take place in the next chapter....*oops***

**So, as per my promises, I want to thank:**

Tarryie (.HP)A is for AngelRose (Bad Wolf Jr)Penelope Louise

**These are my only reviewers, so hopefully, more of you will review to have me feel happy :) I swear, the rest will be more amazing...soon to come!!**

**Luv, Ash**


	4. Author Note

**Sad, depressing, but annoying.**

**Yes, I have not updated for a darn century - for those of you nice enough to read my story. I mean to say sorry for all those people clamouring for the story, who have displayed so by reviewing ( though this is as equally dedicated to all the passive readers who still like my story :D ). Sorry why? How stupid I sound saying "sorry why". The reason is, I'm nearing the final quarter of my 9th grade school year, before the exams, so I will not be able to visit my fave site in the world. Stupid, I know. I'm also having terminal Writer's Block as as of now, I gotta focus my creative juices for my Englkish narrative coursework which shall be sent to Cambridge.**

**So I shall be lying dormant for a lil while, but the end of term holiday are nearing, so there is a ray of sunshine...**

**Sorry. Really, I am. But truth be told, I'm gonna rest a bit. I need to rest. When I'm not embersed in studies, I'm . Or usually socializing. But for all those who like my stuff, feel free the let the words flow on my forum - Cookies Plus Soda Equals Awesome Hyperness. I'm getting a little lonely up there, even though I have six friends on there, who now hardly come on to talk.**

**Be the boredom eradicator!! Come to my lil tavern and CHAT AWAY!!**

**You'll hear me say..."is it a bird? is it a man? is it a plane? NO!! It's...*insert your name here*(wo)man!!!!!!"**

**So bye, before I leave for camps, somewhere called Rajghad, in Himachal Pradesh, India. Near Himalayas, for the dumb ones :D. HOPE ITS FUNNNN!!!**

**Luv, Ash.**


	5. Dancing Queen

**A/N: Well, thanks for waiting everyone. Hope this chapter is fine.**

**Ok so the big dancing scene here has a video link on youtube, pleaseeee check it out: www. youtube. com /watch?v=7yHk64cMjs8**

**PLEASE GO TO MY PROFILE FOR THE ACTUAL LINK.....!!!!!**

**Go to the link and see the video - thats exactly the dance steps I'm talkin' about, and Selena Gomez is Bella, Drew Seeley is Edward, and just pop in an Ashley Greene Alice beside Selena Gomez in the empty studie, yeah?**

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The exhilaration of the moment sent sparks through Bella's body; she felt a strange kind of electricity zip through her and set her muscles on fire.

"Now, it begins," Alice stated slyly.

The speaker thudded out some really poppy music, that was a very Drew Seely-ish song, a cross between Jesse McCartney and a High School Musical ballad.

So Edward started to move. The grace was…startling….

"Space your hands out."

Bella mimicked.

"Now kick, switch step." Edward's legs moves, Bella's legs moved…

"Turn around and give it a shake." Bella turned her hip in a salsa-ish sexy twist. Edward did his own masculine trademark foot shuffle.

"OOOOH!" Bella squealed. "I've always wanted to see that!"

"He serves us dinner with a foot shuffle," Alice rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, the music stopped. They turned to see Edward with his finger on the button, smiling.

"A little stiff, people. Loosen up! One more time."

The music responded to the pressure on the little "play" button.

"Ok, one two three go!"

People arranged themselves once more, the girls pushing out their chests a little.

"Hands out."

Hands out.

"Look to the side, kick, switch legs."

A little confusion on his side; the front girl lost her balance.

"Roll your hips"

Turn, and jiggle.

He improvised further.

"Slide to the right, bob."

Slide to the right and bob.

"Spin on your feet, pause, jump, slide left, slide right."

"Fold your hands, and pump, and pump, and pump."

He continued, the people caught up.

"Look to your left, knees out and in and skip, and pout"

Alice's pout was adorable.

"And flick," he pretended to flick dust off his shoulder, "knees out."

"Slowly now – and left hand back, right hand back, switch step, switch step-"

Lauren and Jessica, their spruced up selves, stepped on each others' toes at the back, but Edward didn't care – he continued as the class copied him.

"Hand out, roll, look left, bob – hand out, roll look left, bob-"

"Spin and skip and turn."

Everyone was panting now, Bella grinning to her fullest, having felt that competitive surge in her heart. Or maybe it was just the sight of Edward's cute butt?

"Ok, well, you all have loosened up, so let me now show you this dance mixed with ball room style."

Edward, being his poppy self went to one end of the mirror thing separating Alice's studio from his, and he started to dance, a poppy ball room movement.

But the eerie thing was that Bella was imitating him – her moves matched his, and she started from the same point at the door, and moved with him from this side of the mirror. Their moves were perfectly symmetrical; both same distance apart from the barrier, both dancing like the other.

But when Edward placed his palms on the barrier, Bella's palms landed the same way, same place. And he looked up, smiling.

Not like he could see her, now, but once more, if you looked from the side, they looked like lovers staring into the other's eyes, panting slightly, palms together.

Bella smiled, her palms shaking slightly, and they went on, and danced to the music.

Edward stopped and turned around, only to smile and grin. Jessica and Lauren tittered slightly.

"So lets do our dance once more, an a one, a two, a one two three four-"

***

"Thank you!!! I had so much fun, Alice!! You're an awesome person to hang out with!! That was the best event so far in my seventeen years of existence!!!"

Alice laughed. "You have so much talent! I'm glad I hung out with you. For a "maid" you're not that bad, you know. Want me to come tomorrow?"

Bella considered the idea – it was one of the best things that had happened o her in years – she had an actual friend. She would love the idea of hanging out with her first ever friend, to actual be free and taste the fresh air. But tomorrow was another chore-day, where Rosalie would be grilling her to bits, and tomorrow didn't allow space enough for even a five minute escape.

"I can't, Alice, tomorrow is extra chore-day."

"Aww, that's too bad." She really was upset. But why – didn't she have friends enough to hand out with?

"I'm sorry. But I guess you can hang with some of your friends tomorrow." Bella told Alice in a sincere voice.

"You're really the only one I have, believe it or not." Alice murmured.

"How come?" Bella was confused. "You're rich – rich people always have friends!!"

"But my friends are determined to get close to Edward – they use me."

"Some friends."

"Which is why I like you. You don't want to use me."

"Well you must have guy friends then???"

"I do have this nice guy at school who tries to hang around with me – he's also seventeen, like me, and he kinda fancies me, I can tell. I just don't know how to tell him that I like him too. I mean we're friends and stuff."

"So hang with him tomorrow – tell him that you like him!!"

"But believe it or not, with guys, I'm shy."

"What's his name?"

"Jasper."

"Well just do it. Tell Jasper that you like hi-"

Bella wavered in mid sentence as a scream cut her off-

"BELLAAAAAAAAAAA?????" Rosalie bellowed.

"Shit!!" Bella cursed, and made to climb the ladder to her bedroom window. "I gotta go Alice – I'll see you soon!!"

"Bye!!" Alice whispered, and disappeared off, hiding behind the hedge and taking the path from there.

"Just don't step on the rose buds – they take ages to grow!!" Bella half whispered half yelled to her halo of spikes slightly bobbing along in the middle of the pink and green hedges.

And with that, Bella opened the bedroom door and went to the attic, to pretend she cleaned it and that's where she had been the whole time. She had never felt so _alive_, so _human_ – always, her thoughts had been that of an overworked donkey, braying with every burden, but today she felt like Bella, the teenage girl, who had made her first friend – the first friend of her existence.

***

"Where have you been?"

"Cleaning the attic."

"What about your daily chores??"

"I did them in the morning –the hovering didn't need to be done today – you told the pizza guy who spilt the cheese over the carpet to do it yesterday night."

"Why is there a ladder outside your bedroom window??"

Bella heart missed a beat.

"Because…..I had to open the circular tall attic window which is above by bedroom window."

"Why on earth-?"

"I had to clean it."

"Was it a part of your responsibilities?"

"No, but it was grimy, and the celebrity neighbours were looking at it day before yesterday."

"Then why wasn't it cleaned day before YESTERDAY?????"

"Because I had my daily chores to do."

"ARE YOU EYEBALLING ME, BELLA?"

"No ma'am."

"Good. NOW HOOVER THE LIVING AREA!!"

Bella sighed as Rosalie retreated, and started to hoover the room hesitantly. That was one of the many heart-attack-inducing conversations she had had with Rosalie, and the after effects were sinking into her chest.

Bella's mind never wavered from the dance floor; she was recounting the dance Edward had taught them.

Subconsciously, Bella started to dance with the hoover; pretending the hoover was the male lead, and experimented her ballroom dancing pop steps, her pirouettes and her pointed toe balance jumps. She even moved to the beat of the hoover, and started to full out danced a twosome with the machine.

She twirled and twisted, and slid and bobbed, and spun and leapt and bobbed. Her feet curled and bopped and she spaced out her knees. Her right hand swung and curled, and she danced with the hoover, without a care in the world…

The music filled her head, the music of the dance floor, and Bella started to dance her part of the ballroom pop dance Edward showed against the barrier, her mind fogged with the persistent memories of the epic incident…

And one of Edward's songs filled her mind, and she shook her hips, and imagined the hoover as Edward….

"_Its become so hard, for me to breathe……_

_It's a different part, the way you make me feel…._

_So come and take my hand…._

_Come and take my hand…._

_Come and take my hand, I'll show ya how to dance_-"

Someone cleared their throat quite suddenly, and Bella tripped over the wire and fell flat on the floor…

Rosalie pursed her lips, standing at the door, and she had her thin eyebrows into an unfathomable expression.

"What are you doing?" She whispered.

"Er…." Bella struggled to reply. "The magazines tell of a routine…er…a hovering routine….." Bella improvised, "….er….that helps the house clean up ten times better!"

Whoops, Bella realized, wrong thing to say.

"You have been reading my magazines…?????" Outrage coloured Rosalie's words.

"Er…no!! I read it from the….er….yellow pages…..newspaper …. magazine… er….. archive?"

Rosalie took it in with the expression of drinking raw lemon juice, and snapped back.

"You were just dancing. It's now routine."

"But it's guaranteed to clean the house better..!"

"Why are you so…interested?"

"For the celebrity guests."

"I don't know why I asked." Rosalie smirked. "You are a maid after all…."

She turned and went.

Bella turned off the hoover and stored it in its usual place, cursing Rosalie. Looking out the clean window, she looked out to the mansion-like house on the hill in the distance, where Alice would probably be watching TV or having non-chore fun. It was with a heavy heart that Bella thought about the ball; if only God could give her one chance to show her worth to Edward, one chance to show him who she was…..

But her fairytale life made sure of the otherwise.

**************

**Well, you know to review, it don't kill. And advertise please...you know....I need my sustenence. Thanks Dani(babe) for the community add and for showing to me that you're still ALIVE!!!!!**

**Dedicated to all the DANCE LOVERS OUT THERE!!!!**

**Just wishing a happy birthday to an American friend wo moved from my school to Virginia last year - HAPPY BIRTHDAY AYESHA!!! (March 12)**

**Happy birthday Siddhant (Gokhale), my best friends' friend, so kinda like my friend, for March 22.**

**GOOD LUCK TO ALL MY ADD MATH FRIENDS WHO HAVE THEIR IGCSE MOCK BOARDS FOR ADD MATH THIS YEAR!!!! HOPE YOU PASS!!!**

**Luv, Ash**


	6. The Perfect Dress ::Author Note::

**Bongiourno!**

**And yes, I deserve every bit of your unpleasantness [if any] for not updating. BUT, I had to do this. Okay, THIS is why I have not been able to update in a long, long while.**

**Let us start off by a simple understanding:**

**_I SUCK AT MAKING DECISIONS_**

**Basically, here is the scenario: I have to make a decision.**

**A special event is nearing in Bella's life in this story, something every Cinderella sneaks out to attend I need a wee bit of Fashion Advice. I have been probing the web, crazing my head off, trying to look for the perfect dress for Bella, a dress in which she can dance and not flash too much underwear, twist and turn, and look gorgeous and royal anyways. I have gone to a lot of prom dress sites to look for the best dress and have come up with a few excellent choices.**

**I have tried to decide. I have tried my HARDEST to decide, but I can't. On my forum on Shelfari, I have even started a topic called "A Bit of Fashion Advice Needed" and told my members all about this fanfiction and the best dress choice.**

**You are the people who have followed the brief life of my Bella, a dancing queen, and a crushing teenage at heart. You can relate. And now, I'd like you to choose the best dress, in your opinion, for the special event.**

**The dress we are looking for is for a dance scene very similar to the final ball in Another Cinderella Story, the link is this..[ok the link is on the shelfari page I have now given a link to].. Please watch it [PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE] and then decide.**

**Okay, I am unable to post the links here because they're not showing up. So could you please just go on this link, which goes to my shelfari page with this fashion advice thing, and then choose? PLEASE???**

Link to shelfari page: www. shelfari . com/groups/37396/discussions/127001/Bit-of-Fashion-Advice-needed

**Luv,**

**Thanks so much!!**

***~~*Ash*~~***


	7. Confrontation

Bella's eyes were swimming in tears of extreme happiness. Her hand shook with it and soon, the whole phone was rattling with her hand; Bella took a deep breath to keep herself in control.

"Yes of course, I'll just tell her."

She put the phone down on the waiting hook, and ran upstairs, skipping four steps at a time, and in a trice, she was knocking on Rosalie's door.

Rosalie hesitated, and then emerged from the bedroom. Being 7:00 in the morning, she was still dressed in the skimpy satin gown and her hair was a little messy, her makeup a tad smudged. From behind her, there was movement on the bed, and the sheets fell back a little to show the naked torso of a well sculpted man with a little chest hair and dark, runny tresses who looked overwhelmingly handsome. Rosalie's new man? Wow. Bella couldn't wait to get hold of the paparazzi.

"What?" Rosalie demanded.

"Anayiah called up, asking for you.."

"Whaaaaaat? Anayiah the gynaecologist?"

Startling. A gynaecologist called her up? We don't need another twin!

"I don't really know but I'm just guessing it's a gynaecologist…"

"Well, get back to work, Bella – Henry baby, put something on, we're going to the gynaecologist," she whispered to the sleepy guy.

The sleepy guy had changed into baggy shorts and an unbuttoned shirt by the time, and he shook the hair out of his eyes as he caught the word "gynaecologist".

"What gynaecologist?" He spook in a riveting English accent. "Rosallie, have you gone completely off your rocka? What gynaecologist?"

"Anayiah – she was some old school bud, Hen. We have to go to her now…"

"For what? You're not pregnant are you? Look, maybay you took my makin seriously, but to me its just like….love to you. I don't want no kids!"

"Oh shut up," Rosalie got feathery. It's just to check, Hen, to see if I'm perfectly fine. Just let's go."

"Hang on!" He said to her. "You wan-ed a baby! That's whuy you slept wi' me! You used me Rosallie! Well guess what – I'm breakin up with you!" He stormed out of the room and went downstairs, gathering his things first.

Rosalie was wide eyed, her lip hitched. She looked confused.

"Wow that's one smart guy. What are you doing here?" she turned to Bella. "Go get to work!"

Bella turned around and walked back, in confusion.

Rosalie's mood had considerately dropped, and she was red in the face as she yelled at Emmett for coming late. Always, to relieve herself of stress, Rosalie planned to go shopping, and buy god knows what that she never had enough of. This relieved Bella of some pressure, and the girls were out with friends. Bella didn't know what to do…

In five minutes, Bella had on her smart black and red pleated, punk skirt with frays, her Mary Janes with many buckles, and a quarter-sleeve violent violet top (stolen from Jessica) , with silver graffiti. She had parted her hair down the side and was wearing a tiny Alice band. She felt a little free – this was the first time in years she was wearing good clothes, and a skirt that reached till half her thigh. Still, the swept, ragged look couldn't be lifted off her face, hair and skinniness – though she was the attractive type of skinny.

Half in mind to head to the shops, and half in mind to return to the dance studio; she couldn't think.

So she just walked, eyeing the beautiful buildings around her.

For the first time she had freedom, this wasn't exactly exciting. Also, her punky outfit had gotten glares from some drunken men, and she had head back home and put on her usual clothes – a white and green striped shirt and baggy flannel shorts that reached her knees perfectly.

She then decided that while the weather was good, she's head out to read something.

Now reading was something Bella loved to do - it used to be her life and soul. Classics captured her like anything, and she was a huge fan of Bronte and Shakespeare and Austen; she had all their books.

But now, there was a new hit series amongst the youngsters; some book called Twilight by Stephenie Meyer – that too something about a teenage vampire love story. Though it sounded exciting, Bella couldn't help but think that it was yet another love story. The cover wasn't too inviting either: a black background, with pale hands cupping an apple. But as they said, never judge a book by its cov-

"BOO!"

She yelled hysterically and flung the first book over her head, startled.

Behind her was a giggling Alice dressed smartly, and tagging behind her was Edward Cullen himself.

She blushed red immediately; had she known of this unexpected encounter, she wouldn't have changed out of her punk clothes at all.

With great energy, she managed to focus on Alice, who hugged her fervently.

"Bella!" she smiled.

"You scared the wits out of me, Alice! Don't do that again!"

Alice giggled evilly. "Out reading on a nice day like this?"

"I like to read." Bella sniffed indignantly in the air.

"Alice," the velvety, smooth voice of the ever-so eloquent Edward cut in. "Alice, can we please move on – I'll be horded soon."

Bella heart missed a beat at his appearance and she blushed red again – his eyes weren't looking at her, but his angular face highlighted his high cheekbones and flawless skin – somehow the way his insecure eyes pleaded with Alice revealed more beauty from inside than he had outside – which was saying something, thought Bella, as she assessed his walking jeans and sharp-cut shirt.

Alice flashed her eyes at him dangerously. "It's your fault for becoming famous, you stick to it."

Bella smirked at that, and sensing her smirk, he shot a dismissive glance at her.

"Alice, if you care anything for my sanity and cleanliness, please let's go. Fans will be milling any second!"

That was very rude.

In fact it was so rude that Bella turned red again, but the way her brown eyes glimmered showed that she was raw with a hurt kind of anger. How dare he say something like that?

"Sanity?" Bella inquired in a low and serious voice. "Cleanliness? Is this the type of ideology stars of this world have?"

Alice, on the verge of pushing her brother, looked at me talking to Edward. In fact, even he turned around at the tone of my voice.

"Listen, nobody," he said, stressed tones. "I'm the one with a marriage ball on my birthday, and I'm supposed to marry someone I don't know. Then there's all these sick fans running up to me begging me to marry them. What do you think that says about them?"

"You realize you would be a 'nobody' yourself if it hadn't been for the fact that you have crazy fans out there supporting you!" Bella retorted, shoving him slightly with my fingertips, right on this chest.

He eyes narrowed in scrutiny as I shoved him.

"I am not a god, so they have no right to threaten my life and existence."

"You know what Edward?" she asked him. "There's people who wanna get a sign from you or something because the want to feel the satisfaction of complimenting your talents, and to feel proud they met someone with such courage and grandeur. So maybe you should just thank your stars that you're a much liked man. Because being normal, well," she laughed sarcastically, "is a tough job, and it's not some smooth music video, like you make yours, ok? You don't even know problems. Just wake up, and respect people who love you. You wanted to be somebody? Well be someone. Start by respecting people." She glared at him, both him and his sister taken aback at the long speech.

Boy, now that felt good.

Alice turned to her brother and said, "You know Ed, she's right. If you don't want to go shopping with me, then don't." She huffed, took Bellow by the elbow and whirled her away.

Bella stared at her in confusion, and looking back she saw him look at her with the weirdest look in his eyes. Intensity and a little something more. It was a smouldering, melting look that was soft gentle with a little more incentive…

Oh goodness, she thought. That look was a copy from her dreams.

"Look, I'm sorry I said it so rudely but you're like the rest of them – the rest of the fans who pretend they can understand. Because quite honestly," He stepped closer, "I don't think you can imagine anything close to how it is for me. Alice gets off easy but it's harder being me. I wouldn't ask you to try it but I'm being put through a lot."

"I don't have it easy!" Alice squealed.

"Yeah right, because I can just totally see a herd of people making you claustrophobic," he retorted.

"I don't mean to make assumptions about your life or anything. I'm standing up for some of your following that might actually care about you," interrupted Bella.

"Care isn't a scarce resource around here. Not if you're rugby tackled by people whenever you're seen," Edward replied.

Bella moved her hand from Alice's wary grip and crossed her arms across her chest, firmly. "If you went and had plastic surgery that made you ugly, then hardly any fans would follow you anymore. Only one in a millions cares about what might be behind that face of yours but you just don't let people find out. Maybe you should reach out to your fans a bit more so they can start liking the talent in you, ties to whomever you might be, and not just the way your talent suits your eyes or makes your butt look cute."

Edward smirked and shook his head. "Fine. I'll let go on this because we're not capable of talking about this the right way and-"

"You chicken," grinned Alice. "Admit she won."

"She didn't."

"She did to."

"She did not, end of discussion. Can we go back home?"

Bella held her hands up in a cautionary sign. "Wait a minute…if you're so afraid of people, then why'd the two of you come out anyway?"

Alice smiled and dismissed Bella's question with a wave of her hand. "Exercise. Air. The usual."

"But you have both a gym and a porch in your house."

Edward sighed. "But you don't get good hot dogs delivered home." He pointed to a plastic bag Alice was carrying.

"So why not let somebody other than yourself go get them?"

"You know Edward," said Alice. "This one asks good questions."

"This one?" Bella asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"'This one' refers to all the fans Edward has met over the span of his career that he kind of starts to like."

"I don't LIKE her!" Edward said, aghast. Then realizing how rude he sounded, he tried making amends. "I don't mean it the way it came out….I mean, you're nice and all but I really didn't mean it the way I said it and-"

Bella was stinging and she couldn't tell the source of the hurt, but it was dense inside her. She suppressed it and nodded. "It's okay – I should be going home anyway."

"Look," said Edward sternly. "Just because I talk to people doesn't mean I immediately start to love them. In fact, Alice, you've just ruined any polite progress I might've made today. So thank you, Alice, and thank you, Bella. I'll be going now too."

"No…" Alice tried to stop him. "I was only joking, don't go off like this…"

"Both of us," he enunciated, "have things to do".

And he left, with Alice towing along after hugging Bella goodbye hurriedly and tried to apologize. He went on without looking back, not looking at Bella as she wrestled with the strange hurt she was feeling. So, he didn't like her. He didn't want to like a fan. So why should it matter? What had Rosalie been saying all along? – Bella was a nobody. And he was a somebody. The two don't match.

Bella never expected to find herself hiding behind this thought, but she did; and when she got home, dejected, she didn't smile at the encounter. When her stepsisters started mocking her lanky hair and Rosalie commented on her flattish chest, she took it all in and thought about how there was at least some honesty being served to her.

Even if the truth isn't always sweet.

* * *

**OKAY SO**

**I haven't been around...!**

**I can explain! It's because I've had my IGCSE exams and stuff and they went ok...and then I just came back from my grandma's place (paradise). Catching up now and I have some serious editing to do on my profile!**

**Ash xx**


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